


and I'm a rose!

by giucorreias



Series: hope is the thing with feathers [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-10-28 04:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giucorreias/pseuds/giucorreias
Summary: Just like his mother, Neil is both: life and death.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I have just a few notes: first of all, English is not my first language, so it's possible you'll find some mistakes. If that is the case, please let me know about them. This story hasn't been beta read, just revised. Besides that, it's been both a long time since I've read the Percy Jackson books, and I read them in Portuguese, which means that some specific terms are possibly not correct. Again, if that's the case, please let me know. Lastly, I've taken some liberties with the overall PJ world: there are adults in the camp, there's no specific time frame the story takes place, and no characters from the book shall appear, except for the mythological creatures. Some other changes were made, too. My objective was not to be very faithful to the original world, so I adapted things as I saw fit.
> 
> This was written for a challenge from a facebook group called panelinha da limonada. The theme was mythological gods and I was given Persephone. You can probably already see how it fits in the story.
> 
> The story title comes from a small poem by emily dickinson, "a sepal, petal, and a thorn".
> 
>  
> 
> As of July, 2018, I'm slowly revising and rewriting this fic. It's been a little more than an year since I first wrote this, and I believe my ability to write in english is considerably better, now. In general, I tend to delete fics I'm not satisfied with, but this one is quite special, so I decided to keep it up. 
> 
> I hope the result is something we're all satisfied with.

Neil watched the sun rise from the top of a roof. He had slept only four hours the night before and he was really tired, but he doubted he’d be able to sleep any longer. First because sleeping was dangerous, and the people who lived in the house could wake up at any minute and find him there. Second because, ever since Mary had died, hiding had become increasingly more difficult.

He took a deep breath, letting the fresh summer air into his lungs. 

Neil liked summer **—** the blue sky, the hot weather, the freshness of everything—, even if spring was his favorite season. He knew, deep down, that hope was nothing but a pretty ( _empty_ ) word, but for some reason that was what spring meant, for him: renewal, change, new beginnings.

He liked seeing the flowers bloom and the grass grow. When he had the time, and, perhaps most importantly, if it was safe enough, Neil liked to find a place surrounded by nature, sit down for a while and close his eyes, feel the thin tethers of the lives growing around him, bold and brave. The chances that a plant would survive for very long were slim, but that didn't mean they ever stopped trying—it was something with which Neil could relate.

When Mary had been alive, Neil had never been allowed to just...  _stop_. The two of them had been running, always, and when they hadn't been moving, they had been training. She used to tell him, voice hard and face severe, that she had much to tell him before her time ran out, that there was no time to lose. Neil wondered, now, if she had always known what was going to happen **—** if she had accepted it.

He shook his head, weary and melancholic, then got up, zipped up his hoodie, and hung the backpack he had used as a pillow over his shoulders. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine that this was his house’s roof, that Nathan didn’t exist and Mary was aliv-

His stomach growled.

He sighed, then, the real world encroaching on him with every passing second. He could almost hear Mary's voice telling him to snap out of it **—** he could _already_ hear the sounds of the house starting to wake up.

He knew he couldn't linger.

Neil started searching his pockets for money, though he knew he'd find nothing but a couple of dollars. One, two, three dollars and... twenty-five cents. He did some math, mentally going through what he could buy with such little money, and reached the conclusion he’d need to steal more very soon: this was hardly going to last him until the weekend.

With a short-term plan in mind—get more money, then get something to eat—, he left the roof through the ivy and went back into the street.

 

The streets were pretty empty, though that wasn’t exactly surprising: night had only just turned into morning and most people were still inside, either sleeping or getting ready to go to work, if they were particularly unlucky. Unfortunately, that meant there were no-  _targets-_  around, and Neil would need to wait a few hours on an empty stomach before being able to eat anything. 

That was fine. Hunger was already an old friend, after all.

 

Luck—or Tyche, like Mary used to call it—was not on his side.

A few hours on an empty stomach turned out to be most of the day without finding a single opportunity to get some money. He had never been good at this, Mary had been the one to do the stealing, and on top of everything Neil couldn’t risk being found out—going to jail would only result on his death. 

He forced himself to stop in the park, to rest for ten or fifteen or twenty minutes before he kept going. His legs felt a little wobbly, his eyes were heavy and his stomach kept bothering him. 

All of that was fine, too.

 

It was another hour before Neil saw someone he considered distracted enough not to notice they were being robbed, and then another ten minutes of stealth before he was twenty dollars richer. That would probably not be enough to last him to the weekend, either, but Neil had already learned to live one day at a time—find money, eat, find shelter, sleep, repeat.

He’d need to leave town eventually, too. Hopefully sometime soon. He couldn’t spend too much time on a single place: out of all of the lessons Mary had tried to teach him, that was the one he had learned first.

He had been living in Millport for almost a month with no incidents, and that meant one was probably going to find him. Soon.

 

He was right.

 

It was five in the afternoon. Neil liked to know what time it was, because that meant he could avoid the rush hour or know when it was about to get dark. He didn’t keep count of the days, but he always knew when it was Sunday because most cities had a church.

The monster came from above.

Had Mary been with him, she’d have taken his arm and forced him to start running away, fast. She’d tell him to find a good place to hide while she dealt with the problem. Fortunately, he had always been bad at following her orders, because now that she was no longer with him, Neil knew how to fight.

He drew his dagger.

The first time a monster attacked him after Mary had died, Neil found out that it was the only thing he had that could hurt them.

The monster—a harpy, he recognized, dark green feathers and a girl's face—dove towards him. Neil almost didn't manage to dodge: the harpy was fast, vicious. It had its mouth open, sharp teeth on display.

For several reasons, Neil hated fighting with a dagger. First because it reminded him of Nathan, his knives, his lessons—it forced him to recognized he had taught him something useful. Second because a dagger meant he had to wait for the right moment, to get close enough, to attack with precision: it was simply not possible to do it fast, as Neil needed to. If he took too long fighting, people would start noticing what was happening.

The second time Neil got attacked after Mary’s death, he realized most people couldn’t see the same thing he did—they saw the fighting, but never the monsters.

The harpy turned mid-air and dove towards him again. Neil was ready, this time: he stood his ground, knees slightly bent, and when the monster was about to tackle him down, Neil let himself fall, raising his dagger above his head and slashing at her.

There was a loud sound, like an explosion—he didn't think of Mary, couldn't bear to—and then the harpy was nothing but golden dust and a single, dark green feather. Neil kept it. Another lesson Mary had taught him: always keep what death doesn’t take from the monsters. When Mary had died, Neil had kept the dagger. He'd kept everything ever since.

“You’re not from camp,” said a voice, startling him. Neil turned, dagger in hands. He re-entered an attack stance, tense, ready, worried. He didn’t relax when he noticed the voice belonged to a human: Mary had taught him, too, that monsters came in all sorts of bodies. Some of them were purely human—his own father was an example of that. “Good stance, bad reflexes. If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it when you were distracted.”

The human was dark-skinned. He had a flame tattoo in one of his arms and an unnervingly benevolent smile that made Neil want to run away. Benevolent people were always curious, they noticed, they _cared_. They were hard to run away from.

“Who are you?” Neil asked, sharp.

“David Wymack, son of Ares,” the man's smile was replaced by an expression of curiosity. “That’s a nice dagger you have. Celestial bronze. You don’t find it just about anywhere.”

There was a question hidden somewhere that Neil didn't know how to answer. He frowned.

“So you know where there are more?”

“What’s wrong with the one you have?” The man started approaching him. Neil stepped back immediately, still pointing his dagger towards the stranger.

“Don’t get too close.”

“I am not going to attack you,” the man answered, frowning, but he stayed where he was. He didn’t look violent, but Neil knew that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. It never hurt to be cautious.

“You know where I can find another one?”

“Camp Half-Blood, for starters.”

Neil frowned again. That didn’t sound like a store or someplace he could rob. Maybe a training camp? Mary had never mentioned it. Not that that meant anything, as Neil knew next to nothing about Mary’s past. Maybe that’s where she had come from, where she learned what she knew.

“What’s… Camp Half-Blood?”

“Summer camp,” the man answered. “Well, not for everyone. Some people stay there all year long.”

“If you don’t want to give me an answer, just say so.” Neil retorted. He felt like crossing his arms, but didn't want to give the man a chance to attack him, so he didn't.

“That’s an answer.” The man seemed amused. “It’s a camp. For half-bloods, like us.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You don’t know what that is?” The man sighed. “Well, it’s a long story, and one I don’t quite have the time for, right now- There’s something I’ve got to do.” There was a loud bang and someone called for “David!”, which made the man turn around and swear loudly a few times. “That’s my cue. Look, kid, meet me here tomorrow at noon. I’ll tell you the story, then.”

The man ran towards the commotion, leaving Neil behind, now pointing his dagger at empty air. Neil wondered, briefly, if he should follow the man, but he didn't actually want to get into a mess that had nothing to do with him. He sighed, then started retracing his steps towards the roof he had used to sleep the night before.

He was tempted to go back, tomorrow. It wasn’t as if he’d have anything else to do the next day at noon. It could be a trap, but... if it was, then that made it a very creative one. Plus, Neil was curious: maybe the man would have some answers for him. Maybe he had met Mary in the past. Maybe he could tell him where this camp was, so Neil could check it out.

  
The next day at noon, David Wymack did better than telling Neil about it: he took him there.


	2. a sepal, petal, and a thorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil's first day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have noticed, I slightly changed the tags. There will probably be more changes as I post the other chapters, sorry about that.
> 
> I also changed the season the story's in. It was spring, and it is now summer. I edited the former chapter slightly to reflect that, but there's no reason to read it again if you have already.
> 
> As for the Percy Jackson canon, some events of it happened, while some didn't. Thalia is still a tree, but minor gods have cabins, and the gods claim their children fairly quickly.

Neil wasn’t sure how to feel about travelling with someone else again. It was weird, in a way, and he thought that Wymack was a much more agreeable travelling companion than Mary, though not as careful, which made the journey to the camp quite dangerous.

In the span of the three days it took them to reach their destination, Neil noticed that Wymack liked coffee (a lot), that he had a girlfriend in the camp and, in one of the two times that a monster caught up to them, that he could fight with both his hands.

When they finally arrived, ‘strawberry farm’ was the first thing that came to mind as he took up his surroundings.

“Doesn’t look much like a camp,” he said.

“You’ll see it when we get closer,” was the answer.

They kept walking, and when after a few minutes Neil still couldn’t see the camp, he started to panic. Maybe it was a trap, after all, and the journey there had been a ploy to make him careless. Maybe the man really did work for his father, and maybe he’d kill him there and bury his body below thousands of strawberries.

Maybe he’d torture him. They hadn’t seen any houses in miles, there would be no one around to hear him scream. Neil considered bolting, but there was nowhere to run to. Wymack must have noticed something was wrong, because he sent him a worried look.

“Everything alright, kid?”

Neil didn’t know whether to trust his concern, so he simply shrugged.

“I’m fine.” And then, just to test the waters, he completed. “Still can’t see anything.”

“That’s because of the Mist. It’s the same thing that keeps most mortals from seeing the monsters. It’s stronger around here.”

It made sense, but Neil didn’t let himself relax. He couldn’t afford to. They went past a huge pine tree, then finally, finally, came across a huge marble archway with greek writing on it. It said ‘Camp Half-Blood’.

Neil wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved it wasn’t an elaborate lie or tense up because he’d probably have to deal with dozens of people he had never met before.

He went with tensing up.

“We’re here.” Wymack said. He was about to say something else when a woman called. She was wearing a bright orange t-shirt and a worried expression.

“You’re back!” She offered him a relieved smile. “When the others arrived and you weren’t with them, I thought…” she trailed.

“I’m good, Abby. I’m back.”

“What happened? Why did you…?” That’s when she seemed to notice Neil. “Oh! Hello, there! Welcome to the half-blood camp.” She gave him a wide grin that Neil wasn’t sure how to respond to. He wasn’t sure he’d able to smile back and look genuine. Neil never really understood why people wanted to look happy when they met someone new.

“He’s shy.” Wymack said after a long minute, when Neil didn’t say anything, to excuse his behaviour. The man looked tired, and Neil could relate to that. “His name is Neil. Will you show him around? I need to report do Mr. D.”

“There’s been an accident at sword fighting practice today.” Abby pursed her lips, then shrugged, apologetic. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“Let me guess: Andrew.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I swear, sometimes the boy seems just like a child of Ares.” Wymack gave her a sheepish grin, and she sighed again. “Come with me, Neil, I’ll see if one of the boys can show you around.”

The infirmary was inside a blue house that was big enough that Neil found it surprising he hadn’t seen it from far away. The Mist seemed like a powerful thing, and Neil wished he could learn how to use it to disguise himself: it would be an incredibly useful ability.

He looked around: there were four windows, big enough to serve as an escape route, a door leading outside, a door leading to another room and stairs to the second floor. The Abby woman lead them through a corridor (windowless, with only two doors at each end) and into a small, but well-lit room (two windows, one big door).

A girl crowded them as soon as they entered the room, and Neil gave a few steps back. She had short, curly hair and dark skin.

“Abby! Is coach really back? Is he ok? Why is he late?” She stringed one question after the other and only stopped to breathe once they were all out.

“Yes, Dan, he’s back in one piece.” Abby gave her a kind smile. “He's with Mr. D. now.”

“Well, good. The new coach is just terrible. He teaches the moves wrong, he doesn’t know how to deal with Andrew and no one takes him seriously.”

“Who’s Mr. D?” Neil asked, curious. That was when the girl finally noticed he was there. She sent him a curious look, measuring him. Neil suppressed his instinct to run and hide, and looked at Abby, waiting for an answer.

“He’s the head of the camp, the one who takes care of everyone.” She answered as she busied herself with one of the boys who was currently laying in one of the beds. He had an ugly gash on his right arm, but Neil had seen worse. He watched, bewildered, the gash disappear, leaving a small pink scar behind. “Which reminds me, Dan, would you show Neil around?”

“Of course, Abby!” The girl said cheerfully. “Come on, Neil.” And she took him by the hand before he could say anything else (or run away) and led him outside.

Just as Neil crossed the threshold, he bumped into someone. Or rather, someone bumped into him. It was a boy slightly shorter than Neil, with beautiful, blond hair and the emptiest expression Neil had ever seen (including his own, when he dared to look into a mirror). The empty expression turned into a curious one for half a second, and it was gone just as fast.

Neil was about to say something when Dan pulled him nervously alongside her and started walking away fast. Neil looked behind, wanting to get a glance at the boy, but he was already inside the infirmary.

“That’s Andrew,” she said, as if it explained everything. When Neil said nothing at that, she added: “You should avoid him. And I mean it. Andrew is absolutely mad and violent, and if you do something he doesn’t agree with, he’ll hurt you and feel no remorse. He almost killed Allison once.”

Neil shrugged. He felt no sympathy for this Allison he didn’t even know, and he had no idea what the situation had been. He also knew how to deal with people who were mad and violent: he had had years of training with his father.

She looked at him, maybe bothered by his silence, and didn’t say anything else for some time, though she kept walking. She stopped at an intersection of the small path they had been following, and started pointing at places.

"Well, you’ve seen the Big House, yes?” Dan said, gesticulating at the blue house. “If you take the path behind it, you’ll find yourself in the Volleyball Court and next to it is ‘Arts and Crafts’. If you walk all the way through there,” she pointed at another path, “you’ll reach the training camp…”

She kept explaining and Neil paid close attention, because knowing his way through a place was an ability he had learned very quickly and very early.

“And… we’re here!”

‘Here’ seemed to be a cluster of cabins, all very singular from one another, organized in an uneven circle. Most of them had one or two windows and a single door, and one of them even had a second floor, though it was not so high he couldn’t jump from it, if needed. Neil didn’t say anything, and after a minute, Dan kept going.

“This is where we sleep and live. Where you stay depends on who your parent is.” For a moment, Neil thought she had been talking about Nathan. He stilled where he was, a cold feeling on his stomach. Oblivious, Dan kept going. “Since we still don’t know who they are, you’ll stay at Hermes’. Don’t worry, though, most gods don’t take longer than a week to claim their children, and you’ll know who they are soon enough, if you don’t already.”

She looked at him and he shook his head. He didn’t. He had always known Mary wasn’t his real mother, but never cared. She had raised him, protected him and run away with him. She had tried his best to keep him safe, and then died for it. No goddess would ever be able to replace her, and as a result Neil didn’t much care for being claimed.

Neil wondered if there was perhaps any chance at all that Nathan wasn’t his real father, and that his divine parent was a man, but it was a fleeting thought. They were too physically similar for it to be a lie. They had the same eyes, the same hair, the same facial structure.

Now that he knew his mother wasn’t some simple girl Nathan had knocked out and then killed in a fit of anger, he wondered what she had seen on his father, whether he had tricked her into believing he was someone else, or if she simply didn’t care. His father was good at pretending, but there were many people who didn’t think sanity was an important trait.

“Until you’re claimed,” Dan continued, “Matt will be your counselor. He’s… very nice and he’ll tell you anything you ask, and make sure the others don’t bother you too much.” She smiled. “Let’s see if he’s around.”

 

He wasn’t.

 

“Matt’s in the meeting,” a girl explained, and Dan looked disappointed for a moment.

“Well, that’s… I’ll leave you to your cabin, then, Neil. See you around.” She waved. Neil sent her a panicked look, because Dan had respected his silence and made no questions, but Neil could already see the curious looks being sent at his direction.

“Hi,” the girl that had talked to Dan caught his attention. “Dan didn’t introduce us, but since I know your name I think it’s only fair to tell you mine. I’m Laila. Welcome to the best cabin in the camp. We’ll have a lot of fun, I promise! Let’s get you a place to sleep, I think there’s a free bed around here somewhere.”

Since it was the most crowded, it seemed only fair that the cabin was the one two stories high. However, that also meant that Neil got the top bed on the second floor, which would make escaping harder. He could already predict barely slept nights and long, tiresome days.

He put his backpack over his bed, before giving up on that idea and slinging it back over his shoulder. He thought he’d be left alone to think, but Laila seemed to have other ideas, and sat down on the bed under his. She kept talking about the camp, about the cabin and about anything that seemed to come to mind, and eventually other people joined her too.

Neil mostly got away with evasive answers, white lies and agreeing noises.

He tried telling himself he was fine again and again, but at some point in the past, fine had stopped being a word that had meaning. When they started betting on who was probably his divine parent (most of them were betting on Aphrodite), his mantra stopped working and he started feeling… itchy.

He looked below, where people were exchanging money and laughing loudly, and quietly escaped through one of the windows.

 

As soon as his feet touched the ground, he ran.

 

It was not the smartest decision he had ever made—on a list of not very smart decisions he had made in the last three days—and he would probably get lost trying to get back, since he was new there; but he needed this.

He needed to feel the summer wind on his face, the grass under his feet and his heart beating his life still. He needed to feel his legs burning and his head pounding because that was the only way he could measure that he was free: really, truly free.

Neil only stopped when there was nowhere else to run to, when the green woods bled into sand, and then when sand turned into deep blue sea. Maybe, if he could swim, he’d keep going, but as it was he had nowhere else to go but back, and he didn’t want to go back.

 

Neil sat.

 

And someone sat beside him.

 

For a long minute, Neil kept his eyes at the horizon. His breathing was ragged, his legs were useless and he just wanted… he just wanted to be left alone.

When there were no questions, no reprimands, no small talk, Neil finally had the courage to look.

He saw blond hair and a sharp profile, then recognized the boy he had bumped into when leaving the blue house. Dan had called him Andrew. He was wearing a black shirt (not one of those hideous orange ones everyone else seemed to wear) and floral armbands, and didn’t look particularly crazy, like she had said.

Neil knew crazy: he had looked at crazy every day of his childhood and every night on his nightmares. Andrew looked… empty. Like sterile soil, where come spring nothing would grow, not even hope.

Like constant winter.

Neil recognized that. Neil was almost, almost there.

“Staring,” Andrew said, not looking at him. It was oddly comforting, not being the center of attention, not being expected to say anything whatsoever. Neil turned his eyes back at the horizon and mumbled an apology.

For perhaps an hour, nothing happened besides tranquil coexistence. Nothing besides breathing and blinking and listening to the winds and the waves and watching the sun move in the still bright blue sky.

 

Andrew was the one to break the spell.

 

“They are probably thinking you ran away,” he said. There was a minute of silence while Neil decided whether to answer. He looked at the sky, and then at Andrew, that this time was looking back at him with a blank expression that was a lot less scary than many smiles he had been given that day.

“They are probably not wrong,” he answered slowly. Neil measured the idea of running away, really running away, and not going back. It left a bitter taste on his mouth and a cold weight on his stomach. Neil had no one to turn to, nowhere to go, nothing to run away to.

He might as well stay.

Neil tilted his head towards the sea, and then looked at the setting sun.

“I only stopped because I couldn’t keep going.”

“One less god to worry about, then.”

Neil didn’t say it had never been an option: he was currently pretending Nathan didn’t exist. He heard shuffling beside him, and then footsteps moving away. He waited until Andrew was almost at the edge of the beach before getting up himself and leaving this solitude behind.

 

Andrew walked away slowly and Neil followed him outside the woods. Once they reached the dirt path that would lead them to the cabins, Andrew turned to him, touched two fingers on his forehead on a weird salute and walked the other way.

 

Back to the cabin, he threw his bag back at the bed, and Laila was the first one to crowd him, a worried look on her face.

“Where did you go? No one saw you leave!”

“I went exploring,” Neil lied, and then shrugged. “I like to know my surroundings, and there’s a lot to see around.” That, on the other hand, was not exactly a lie.

“You mean besides endless strawberry fields?” Laila laughed. Neil didn’t. “Did you find anything interesting?” _Loneliness_ , he thought, _grief_ . _Andrew_. He said, instead:

“A beach.”

“You found the beach! We throw parties there, sometimes. Last summer there was this luau, where-” She was interrupted by a loud arrival, and then people started moving downstairs. “Matt’s back!” She took him by the arm and he barely suppressed a flinch.

“Alright, people!” Someone said. A black boy with short hair and the characteristic orange t-shirt. “Let’s get in line, shall we? It’s food time.”

 

Dinner ended up being a loud affair.

Neil tried to search for an empty table, but Dan saw him before he could disappear and talked him (rather, dragged him) into sitting with her and her friends.

“Hey guys, this is Neil. Neil, you know Matt,” she pointed at the black guy from the cabin. “These are Allison, her boyfriend Seth, and Renee.” She pointed at a tall, blonde girl, a guy with an annoyed expression and a short girl with a crucifix and colourful hair.

“Hello, Neil,” Renee said, a kind smile on her lips. Out of the three of them, she was the only one who looked… more. Like she was hiding something, like she was not simply a short girl with a crucifix and a nice hair. “It’s always good to have new people around. How are you settling in?”

“Just fine,” Neil answered curtly, and then stuffed his mouth with food so he didn’t have to say anything else. Renee nodded, and then let herself go back to the conversation that had been happening before Neil’s arrival, that as far as Neil had gathered, seemed to circle around the possibility of them convincing Mr. D. to change the camp’s colors.

Neil was silently staring at his food, hoping not to be asked any questions, when Allison stopped mid-sentence. He looked up, and then behind him, towards the person Allison was sneering at.

“What do you want here, monster?”

It was Andrew. He was not alone, though: there were three people trailing after him. Someone who seemed to be Andrew’s twin brother, a dark haired boy and Kevin Day. Andrew gave Allison a blank stare before turning to Renee, who smiled sweetly at him.

There was a long beat when no one said anything, and the table collectively held their breath. The dining room kept on talking, oblivious, and Neil watched the whole dynamics with interest (he was also looking around, searching easy ways out if something happened).

“He is mine,” Andrew said, finally, and Renee nodded at him, a puzzled expression on her face that was soon replaced by a thoughtful expression, and then a pleased one. Andrew huffed, then sent her an annoyed glare, and completed: “Not like that.”

She didn’t answer immediately, and lost her chance entirely when Andrew walked away without another word.

Neil looked around the table, hoping someone would explain what had just happened, but they all looked just as lost as he was. He shrugged. Renee had already gone back to eating and was subtly refusing to talk about what Andrew had meant.

Neil looked behind him and found Andrew staring at them from the other side of the dining hall, all the way from what was supposedly Zeus’ table.

For just one moment, their eyes met.

 

Andrew looked away.

  
  
Neil didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is only here because sayakaharume is a very patient person who deals gracefully with my rants and desperate questions. Thank you gurl~


	3. upon a common summer's morn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer goes by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa  
> this chapter was so hard for some reason!!! and now if i don't write three chapters till tomorrow night i'll loose the challenge and be forever sad.
> 
> send help

 

Despite having a nice bed, a roof over his head and a full stomach for the first time in a long time, Neil didn’t sleep well. Not simply because it was a different place: he was used to that. The problem were the people who knew his name and his face, people who would notice if he disappeared.

He got up before anyone else, changed his clothing without showering and left his cabin to run. Not away, even though he considered it briefly. Just somewhere. Anywhere. Someplace he didn’t have to see people and worry about endangering them.

It was well into morning when he went back, at which point almost everyone else was already awake and doing something.

“There you are!” Matt said as soon as he spotted him, a bright smile replacing his worried look. “You missed out on breakfast and ancient greek, and now we have sword practice with Wymack.” His tone was apologetic. “I was supposed to have shown you our timetable yesterday, but with so many things happening I ended up forgetting, sorry.”

Neil shrugged.

  


Matt lead him all the way to the armory.

“You’ll need a sword and an armour in order to train properly,” he explained. “We’ll need to get you fitted.”

Neil nodded, looking around. It was a huge place, full of weapons and armour and a few magical items. It had a single door and not many accessible windows. Not very defensible, not a good place to hide. Not a good place to be found in, unprepared. Neil tried not to appear too nervous at the thought and Matt was probably too oblivious, because he didn’t notice anything was wrong.

“So… you’re short and… ah… I’m not the best at this,” he sighed, apologetic again. “But I think this one should fit?” He pointed at one of the armours. “And the sword… well, maybe a light one. You don’t have much muscles.” Matt started searching for something specific, while he muttered under his breath. After maybe two minutes, he went back. “Here. This is Aichmirós. Take good care of her.”

“Sharp…?”

“Yes.” Matt chuckled. “It’s a good name. And it’s a good sword.”

Neil shrugged again. He didn’t much care for swords and fighting, even if he recognized it was sometimes a necessity. Fighting reminded him of his father. And, when it didn’t, it reminded him of Mary and how she died. Still, if he ever needed it, a sword was better than a dagger. He donned his armour and it was a bit large, but he was already used to large pieces of clothing.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Matt smiled. “Now let’s go, I think we’re already late.”

  


When they arrived at the arena, almost everyone was already there. Some people were stretching, getting ready to fight, and some were sitting around and speaking loudly. Renee waved at him and Neil waved back simply because he didn’t know what else to do. Dan and Allison waved, too, and Neil was about to follow Matt to where they were when someone touched his elbow.

Neil turned back prepared to fight or flight, but it was Andrew, who simply looked at him with a bored expression. Kevin was hovering directly after him, nervous. Then, he saw something that made him irritated.

“I can’t believe they gave him Aichmirós.”

“It’s just a sword, Kevin.” Andrew replied with no inflection whatsoever on his voice. “Don’t fret over it.”

“It’s too light for him,” Kevin kept going. Then, he turned at Neil. “You should request to change it. You should use a heavier sword. Not too heavier, but this one is too light.”

“It’s fine,” Neil answered.

Kevin crossed his arms.

“A weapon is an important tool. In a situation of life or death, having the most balanced option might save your life or doom it. Don’t take this lightly.”

“Go talk to someone who cares,” Andrew flicked him off, pointing at a group of people who were stretching in the corner, next to Wymack. Kevin uncrossed his arms and pursed his lips, but stomped away.

Andrew looked at Neil, who said nothing. Then, he signaled for Neil to follow him, and Neil did. When he looked back, he saw Matt watching him with a worried look on his face.

 

There was no need to be worried. Neil didn’t think Andrew was going to hurt him. And, out of all of the other people around, he was by far the only one who didn’t make Neil feel like running away. Matt was nice, but cheerful. Dan was… fierce. Allison talked too much, and Renee was hiding something.

Andrew, however, was a silent person. The one who, so far, noticed his boundaries and respected them. Neil thought he knew why. Neil thought that, perhaps Andrew recognized himself where Neil was. The turning point. The moment before you realize there’s nothing for you in this world, and there will never be.

 

They spent the whole training in companionable silence. Neil looking around, noticing people and trying to gather who to avoid. Andrew, on the other hand, attentively watching Kevin Day.

  
  


As the days went by, Neil noticed a few things. One, that wherever Kevin went, Andrew went too. Two, that Dan and Matt liked each other but weren’t together for some reason. Three, that Allison and Seth were more often not together than they were together and their relationship was weird. Four, that the only things Andrew believed in were fairness and personal boundaries.

That led to the fact that Neil didn’t really understand why people thought Andrew was crazy. In fact, he considered it the other way around: Andrew was predictable. He had very clear rules that he followed religiously, and only got violent when people did anything he considered wrong.

Like when Nicky—Andrew’s older brother and the only other sibling he put up with besides his twin brother Aaron—tried to kiss Neil without permission and Andrew punched him. Like when he was napping and someone tried to wake him up by touching his arm without permission. Like when he fought Seth for using homophobic slurs against Nicky.

Crazy people didn’t make sense.

But Andrew did.

  


“Truth for a truth,” Andrew said.

They were quietly watching the sunset while Kevin and Nicky trained swordfighting.

Nicky kept complaining about being forced to fight and training not being fun without sweaty men for him to look at, while Kevin kept telling him he’d one day need the knowledge of fighting if he wanted to survive out there.

Neil had been accepted in their group quite easily, even if he was the only one to socialize with other people. Probably because Andrew seemed to (usually) tolerate him more than he did other people, and probably because most people didn’t understand how his mind worked. Kevin did, in a way. Nicky didn’t. Aaron didn’t seem to even try.

Andrew would be the only one happy with the status quo, if happy was a word that could be used to describe him. Nicky craved social interaction, Kevin wanted people to train with and Aaron wanted to be able to date his girlfriend.

“Ok,” Neil agreed after a long minute of looking at the sky and saying nothing.

It was not a comfortable thought, to promise someone the truth. Not for someone like him, that had lived off lying for so long; that was still faking his own appearance, that pretended to be called something else even in his own mind. Andrew was also the kind of person who would probably notice if he lied.

He didn’t want to lie.

And, if there was someone who could handle the ugly truths of his life, that someone had to be Andrew Minyard.

“You are running from something,” he said, not really a question. Neil’s mind wandered to the moments in the mornings when he’d consider not coming back, when he saw Mary’s face and Nathan’s crazed smile. Then he looked back at Andrew and wondered when he had noticed anything. The others never did.

“Not a question,” was what he said. There was a beat, and then:

“Who?”

Neil didn’t answer immediately. By the time he got the courage to, the sun had already set and Kevin and Nicky were almost finished. They were arguing again about the usefulness of training, but there was no heat.

“My father,” Neil said quietly. After there was no response, he wondered if Andrew had heard it, and looked at him to confirm. He was looking at the dark sky, apparently bored. It was not the response Neil had been waiting, but it should have been.

“Your turn.”

“Why do you always follow Kevin around?”

“We have a deal.”

Neil hummed thoughtfully but didn’t ask what it was. Kevin reached them, equipment in hands, and they left.

  


Neil still woke up everyday before anyone else and ran.

Neil still came back.

  


“I’ll make you a deal,” Andrew said.

Neil looked up from his ancient greek textbook. They were having classes with the children of Athena, and that day particularly a girl named Katelyn was going on about article declensions. Aaron watched her attentively, while at some point during class, Andrew had sat in the chair directly ahead of him.

Nicky was sending a guy named Erik paper messages, while Kevin was drawing fighting drills instead of anything related to the subject.

“What deal?”

“You train with Kevin so he’ll shut up. I’ll protect you from your father.”

Neil thought about Mary. About her body disappearing and her dagger being the only thing left behind. Neil thought about his father, about his sharp knives and his cruel threats. Neil thought about Andrew.

So Neil said:

“No.”

“Do you want to run away your entire life?”

Neil sighed.

“If I have to.”

  


Neil started running at night.

And Neil still came back.

  


“Can we take another turn?”

“Sure.”

“What’s your deal with Kevin?”

“I protect him from Riko. He’ll pay for Aaron’s college.”

“Not yours?”

“There is nothing I want to study about. Why won’t you take my deal?”

“The last person to protect me from my father is dead.”

  


At some point Neil stopped telling himself that he was going to leave.

He kept running, but never failed to go back.

  


“I don’t think a zombie apocalypse is a likely incident,” Andrew answered.

It was lunch time. They were all sitting together at Renee’s table, which would otherwise have herself only. Allison and Nicky were complaining about Aphrodite’s cabin design, with occasional commentary from Aaron. Dan and Matt were flirting and not flirting at the same time, on that weird dance of theirs.

Seth was angrily glaring at Allison.

“But if it happened, who would you take with you?” Renee insisted. Andrew and she had been quietly talking about a theoretical World War III, and at some point moved on to apocalypse scenarios. It was a weird conversation, but an interesting one. Andrew raised a hand and showed her five fingers. When he said nothing else, Renee moved to look at Neil. “What about you? Who would you take with you, Neil?”

He wouldn’t. If something like an apocalypse happened, Neil would run away and hide. Try to survive for the longest time possible. Try to keep outrunning his father, hoping the apocalypse would take his life away.

“I-”

Allison spared him from having to answer by turning her attention to him at that exact same time:

“Don’t you think your parent is taking too long to claim you, Neil?” Neil shrugged. “Aren’t you curious, though?”

“Not really, no.”

“That’s no fun. We have a bet, you know? I think you’ll turn out to be my brother.”

Neil had a moment of panic at the thought of having to live with the outgoing children of Aphrodite. Having to deal with their parties, their curiosity, their questions, sounded like hell.

“He’s clearly Hermes’,” Matt countered. “He is a great runner. Fast.”

“He fights well, too,” Dan added. That started an argument over which of his abilities were better than the others and if that meant he was related to that god. Andrew watched everything, detached, and seemed to be the only one not to have an opinion.

  


“Who do you think is my divine parent?” Neil asked Andrew at some point.

“Demeter.”

“Why?”

“You smell like flowers.”

  
  
In the end, Andrew was the one to get the closest.


	4. a flask of dew, a bee or two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil is claimed. Somehow, he gets a key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is quite short, sorry! but hopefully it's still good~
> 
> btw, i took some liberties. let's pretend abby is a representative of olympus. 
> 
> (i have no idea where chiron is. let's pretend he's out there searching for the missing soul)

Neil didn’t notice he was dreaming, at first. 

He was standing still in a cold, dark place, an olive-skinned woman directly in front of him. She had long brown hair and deep brown eyes. She was wearing a flower crown on her head, which was made of lilies, Mary’s favourite flowers.

Instinctively, Neil knew this woman was his mother.

“Neil,” she said, and then she smiled sadly. A moment of silence hung between them. A minute, an hour, a day, he couldn’t say. The woman kept looking at him and he kept looking back until she finally, finally, spoke again. “Do you know where we are?”

He looked around. He saw stone walls, a big wooden door and an equally big window that gave view to a magnificent garden. There was the dark sky above, but no moon, no stars, no light. The scene changed. They were in the garden, now. There was a huge pomegranate tree and they were sitting directly under its shadow. Up, up, up, there was the window he had seen this garden through.

Neil could hear a river, somewhere. There was no breeze, but the leafs moved. Three dogs were barking. There was feminine laughter, ringing like a thousand bells, and he could have sworn he heard Mary’s voice saying “it’s almost autumn again” and “she’ll be back soon”.

The laugh grew stronger and three young women ran past the two of them as if they weren't really there. Playing, jumping, wearing fluttering white dresses adorned with flowers.

“Neil,” his mother said again. He turned his face back at her. “Neil. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask something of you.” Still, he didn't utter a single word. She looked at him patiently, searching, curious. She put a rebellious lock of her hair behind her ear. “A soul escaped the Underworld into the living plane. It needs to be brought back.”

“I can't,” he finally answered. He thought about the safety of the camp. He thought about his friends. He thought about Andrew, his truths and his selfless promises. He thought about leaving them and never going back. He thought about leaving them and dying as nothing and no one. “I can’t.”

“But you must. And you will. Or bad things will happen, not only to you. It is not wise to upset the balance of fate.”

“My father-”

“Will be dead soon.” That truth (was it a truth?) hung between them for a minute, an hour, a day. Some time. Neil felt… relieved. He maybe shouldn’t, but he did. “Neil, if the dead think they can go back to life indiscriminately and without punishment, they’ll try. And if many try, some will succeed. That’s not a catastrophe We’re ready to deal with. I am barely back to the Underworld.” She sighed. “This needs to be dealt with. And yet… yet, there’s nothing We can do because of Olympian politics.”

She pursed her lips, frustrated.

“You are not bound by the same laws that bind us. You’re part human, part god. That means you can influence both worlds. And… you are my child: your actions reflect my will. If you stop the child of Zeus and bring Kengo back, the dead will know there’s no loophole to exploit.” She took a pomegranate in hands, and then took five seeds out of it. “My influence in the mortal world is limited. But if you ever need help, call for me.”

  
  


Then, Neil was awake.

  
  


The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t laying on the bed he went to sleep. The ceiling was different. The light was different. The height was different. Neil reached for Thorn, the dagger he kept hidden under his shirt, but it wasn’t there. Panic. Had his father found him? Nathan was the kind of person who would be able to hire a half-blood to go after him. He wasn’t safe. He needed to-

“Neil?”

His head shot to the female voice who had called his name. It took him a minute to recognize it, and then another one to match it to its face. Panic made him slow, made it hard to think. He blinked. And then it clicked.

“Abby,” he breathed. His panic started to recede. He was safe. His father was mortal. He didn’t know where he was. He couldn’t reach Neil there.

“Are you ok?” She looked worried.

“I’m fine,” he answered without missing a beat. “What happened?”

“We tried to wake you,” it was Matt, and not Abby, who replied. Neil looked around, and noticed what he hadn’t noticed before, because of the panic: everyone was there. Andrew, Renee, Allison, Dan, Kevin and, surprisingly, even Aaron. Matt continued: “But you wouldn’t. You kept saying you couldn’t leave, that he’d kill you. So I thought… maybe a nightmare. But you wouldn’t wake up. And we brought you here.”

Abby was about to say something, but Neil wasn’t ready to discuss his dream just yet. So Neil was quicker:

“What time is it?”

“Almost midday”

“I missed ancient greek,” he complained.

“Junkie,” It was Andrew who said this, the same bored inflection he always had; but Neil thought there was perhaps a touch of relief on his voice.

He sighed. Then, he got up. That’s when he noticed he was holding something with his left hand. He opened it. He saw the pomegranate seeds his mother had given him, and frowned. Finally, he looked at Abby: he was about to ask something when he noticed she was no longer looking at him, but at something directly above his head.

Neil looked up.

There was a symbol the color of the pomegranate, there. Two lilies intertwined, one of them dead and the other, blooming. Neil frowned again, unsure. 

“It’s done,” Abby said.

“What’s done?”

“Your mother. Persephone, goddess of spring, queen of the Underworld.”

As soon as people started kneeling out of respect for her, Neil silently hid the seeds on his pocket. Once they started getting up, he ran.

  
  
  


His mind was running as much as his legs.

At first, it was replaying his dream over and over. His mother. The fact that she wanted him to leave the camp and do something, leave the camp and maybe not come back, leave the camp and maybe find his father, or his father’s people. Leave, and maybe die.

He had just found this place. He had friends. He was living his life for maybe the very first time, instead of simply surviving. Instead of simply waiting for life’s next punch. Instead of counting breaths and counting beats until death took him away. It was not something he wanted to lose. 

At the same time, he couldn’t forget the zombie conversation.

How Renee would go back for survivors, how Andrew would keep five people safe. How Neil himself would run and hide and hope the zombies went away.

He wanted to be the kind of person that would go back for his friends.

Maybe trying to stop this catastrophe was a good start.

  
  


It was already dark when Neil went back.

 

Andrew was waiting for him, sitting on the steps in front of the Hermes’ cabin. He was looking at the sky, an empty expression on his face.

“You didn’t run away, after all. I had been wondering.” Neil sat beside him. Andrew handed him a protein bar. “Kevin sends his regards.”

There was no answer. Neil looked at the sky, the same general direction Andrew was looking, and saw a constellation. Scorpius.

“Do you know its story? We studied about it last class.”

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Gaea sent Scorpius to kill Orion. And so Zeus put them both in the sky in different seasons, so they wouldn’t meet each other.”

“Just like your mother.” Neil shrugged.

“In a way.”

“You’re wrong, though. It was Artemis who put Orion in the sky.”

“How do you know?” Andrew didn’t answer, just kept looking at the sky, and there was more silence. Neil opened the protein bar and managed to finish eating it before another word was pronounced between them.

“Truth for a truth.” He asked. When Neil nodded, he continued: “What did you see?”

It took Neil a moment to realize what he was talking about.

“My mother.” He sighed. “Trouble is coming.”

“Trouble is always coming.” Andrew retorted. “Your turn.”

“How did you know I had seen something?”

“You were holding something when you woke up. Nightmares don’t give people objects, but visions sometimes do.” Neil reached for the pomegranate seeds on his pockets, and showed them to Andrew. “Quite fitting,” he mused. Neil gave him a half smile, before putting his seeds back on his pocket.

In return, Andrew took something out of his.

A key.

He shook it in front of Neil’s eyes, before depositing it on his open hand. Neil looked at it, dumbfounded.

“What’s this?”

“Has running fried your brain?” Andrew said. He didn’t give Neil time to answer, before continuing: “It’s from my house in Columbia. Nicky, Aaron and I spend the year there. You should come with us. There’s nothing here for you outside summer.”

“I can’t-”

“He’ll kill you?” Andrew completed. “Your father, I suppose. As long as you’re running, he wins. Stop being the rabbit here.”

Neil didn’t answer at first. He just looked at Andrew, his blond hair, tousled; his pretty face pale under the moonlight. His bored look, still somehow piercing. The key. His key. He traced its shape on his hand, and maybe there was a smile on his own face.

Andrew said:

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Neil asked:

“Like what?”

Andrew answered:

“Like I’m your answer. I’m not.”

  
  
But Andrew had just given him one.


	5. a breeze, a carper in the trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil's half-truths are discovered. Andrew is Angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of a panic attack.
> 
> also AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
> MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T READ THIS CHAPTER NOW AND WAIT TILL I'M SANE ENOUGH TO REVISE THIS PROPERLY  
> I NEED TO WRITE THE LAST ONE IN LESS THAN TWO HOURS LEST I BECOME A ZOMBIE TOMORROW  
> I REGRET LIFE

The final days of summer weren’t very eventful. He moved to Persephone’s cabin. He kept eating lunch with Andrew, Renee and their groups. He told no one else about his vision, and no one about the fact that his mother wanted him to find a missing soul.

He kept the key in one pocket and the seeds in the other.

He slept. He ran. He went to his ancient greek classes. He answered Andrew’s questions and asked some in return.

He decided to go with Andrew to his house in Columbia.

  
  
  


It was a big two-story house. The windows were too small for Neil to pass through, and it didn’t seem to be a good place for hiding. Still, Neil had a key to the front door. He was partial to saying the house was perfect.

Andrew had a car—which had been a surprise at first—that he had bought with the money of Aaron’s adoptive mother's death, and that he used to take everybody’s luggage to the house. One summer later, and Neil’s stuff could no longer fit a single backpack. He had armour, weapons and, at some point, he managed to be convinced to get a few of the hideous orange t-shirts everyone used in the camp.

It didn’t feel real.

But it was.

  
  
  


Neil hadn’t considered the fact that they all frequented high school, and he… didn’t. Mary hadn’t considered it important, for a life on the run. Neil knew how to fight with a dagger, and how to lie, and how to deal with wounds without a proper first-aid kit, but he had no idea what was the order of the US presidents, or what was the story of the classical books everyone had already read at least once on their lives.

“Maybe I should get a new identity.”

Andrew looked at him, and for a moment there was surprise on his face. The next moment, his face was carefully schooled into neutrality.

“Why,” he said, not exactly a question. They were sitting under the stars, just the two of them. Nicky was skyping his boyfriend Erik. Aaron was reading a book. Kevin was watching Exy on TV, something about a tribute to his mother. Scorpius still shined in the sky, and Andrew was smoking. Neil was simply holding a cigarette between his fingers, watching his smoke swirl away. The smell reminded him of Mary. 

Kevin and the twins had classes the next day, and Nicky had work. Neil wasn’t really sure what to do now that he wasn’t running, beyond searching for Kengo.

“Neil is a minor. I’d have to go to school.” He grimaced. “I wouldn’t be able to keep up. I need an identity that will let me find work.”

“Neil is not your real name,” Andrew said and again it was not a question. Neil looked at him, puzzled, and wondered why he had never mentioned the fact before. It was no longer fear of being known. Andrew knew his jagged edges, his erratic heart.

“No, it’s not.”

Andrew didn’t answer. He threw his cigarette on the floor. He stepped on it. Then, he got up and left. He slammed the door shut.

Neil was left alone to his own thoughts.

Maybe he’d keep the name Neil. He liked it.

  
  


For the next two days, Andrew didn’t speak a single word with him.

  
  


“I think Andrew is angry with me,” Neil said. 

It was Nicky’s day off, and they were in the kitchen. Nicky was trying his hands on pancakes and failing comically. Neil had offered him help, that he’d declined, so he had ended up simply keeping him company, for lack of anything else to do.

“Well, he hasn’t killed you yet, so I don’t think that’s true,” he answered distractedly, while he examined two bowls, trying to guess which was the salt and which was the sugar. “He gets violent when he’s angry. There was this time he threw a knife at me because I complimented his hair.”

Neil shrugged.

“He hasn’t spoken to me in two days.”

Nicky somehow let the sugar bowl fall into the mixture, and swore profusely.

“Do you think we can still save this?” He asked. He tasted it, grimaced, and decided to throw it away. “Maybe we should get breakfast over at Sweetie’s,” he mused, before answering to Neil’s commentary. “Sometimes he goes a whole month without speaking to me or Aaron. And even though he’s always with Kevin, they hardly ever speak. Andrew’s not usually very talkative.”

Neil frowned.

“I wonder what changed.”

“Nothing,” Nicky said, getting his wallet and heading for the door. “He’s just back to normal.”

  
  


A whole week went by without another word from Andrew. Neil made some progress on his research about Kengo.

  
  


“I’m named after my father.” Neil said.

Andrew had just arrived from school and was sitting all alone in the kitchen table. He had some notebooks and was pretending to do homework, even though he hadn’t written a single word. Nicky was still at work, Kevin was once again watching Exy, and Aaron was sulking somewhere because he missed his girlfriend.

Andrew said:

“I didn't ask.”

And Neil smiled.

“I know.” He answered. There was silence, filled only by the sounds of their breathing, the cars on the street and the TV on the other room. Neil propped his head on his arm, waiting for the question that would inevitably arrive. Getting ready to talk about it.

Andrew gave him two minutes.

“What’s your father’s name?”

Still, Neil felt his heart beat faster and the panic squeeze his stomach. He took a deep, deep breath before he was ready to say it.

“Nathan. He’s called Nathan.” Neil looked around. At the ceiling, at the windows, at the books and notebooks. Anywhere, everywhere but Andrew.

“You don't look like a Nathan,” was not an answer he expected. But he should have. 

“I’m not.” He said and waited a beat, because his name still tasted heavy on his tongue. “I’m Nathaniel.”

“Neil fits you better.” 

“I like Neil better too.”

  
  


The next day, they seemed to be in speaking terms again.

  
  


“Why are you researching on Kengo Moriyama?” Andrew asked, and there was something stiff on his voice.

It was afternoon. Nicky was at work. Aaron was out. Kevin was, surprisingly, not watching television, but standing behind Andrew, looking incredibly pale. Neil was sitting on Nicky’s computer, a few google tabs on possible Kengo locations.

He was about to say “this is not what it looks like”, but changed his mind. He tried instead:

“I-” and Andrew interrupted him.

“Think carefully on what you’ll answer. Don’t lie to me.” He took a knife out of one of his armbands, and pointed it at Neil. It was weird to be on the receiving end of a knife again, but strangely Neil was not afraid.

“I told you about my vision,” Neil answered.

“So you lied about that too.”

“Not really. She was there. But she told me about this soul that had escaped the Underworld, and how I had to get it back. She said she couldn’t herself because of politics.”

“If a soul escaped, then she should be able to get it back. It’s her job. Unless-”

“Riko.” Kevin choked. Neil didn’t think he could get paler, but he did. “If she or Hades hurt him, father would be angry. He’d attack Hades.” Neil could recognize the beginning of a panic attack. “Do you think- do you think Riko took Jean?”

Andrew put his knife back on his armband, and forcefully turned off the computer. It was perhaps the first time Neil saw him this angry.

“He wouldn’t be able to take a soul from the Underworld without help from the inside.” Neil said. “He’d need a monster with knowledge, or children of the Underworld-related gods.”

Kevin nodded, unable to form words.

“Get your shit together, Kevin.” He left the room slamming the door, but came back right after. He pointed a finger at Neil. “Get your things, we’re going back to the camp.”

  
  


Neil left Nicky a note, because Andrew refused to.

“If you take too long, I’m leaving you behind!”

Neil knew he wouldn’t.

  
  


On their way to the camp, Andrew said:

“Next time you have a vision, you tell me.”

“Ok,” Neil said easily. Andrew was probably expecting a negative, and Neil got satisfaction in knowing that for once he had surprised Andrew back.

“I hate you,” Andrew told him at some point. Right after, he raised the volume of the radio in order to drown the sounds of Kevin’s drinking in the backseat. As a result, he ended up drowning Neil’s answer too.

“It’s fine if you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't catch it: Riko and Kevin are sons of Zeus. Jean is a son of Hades. It's bad writing not to give important information in the story but I'm honestly unable to deal with rewriting scenes now.  
> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa


	6. and I'm a rose!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get a mission that doesn't quite go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for Reading so far! And sorry if this chapter is not as good as it could be (or the whole fic for this matter, ahahaha) but it was the best I could do under the circumstances and the deadline and I hope you all like it. 
> 
> It's also the biggest fic I've ever finished.

The camp was mostly empty. They were greeted in the entrance by Wymack, who didn’t seem very surprised to see them there. Andrew went ahead of him and Kevin, face at the same time hard and empty. Neil wondered if Andrew had called, though he hadn’t seen Andrew with a cellphone anywhere.

“You should have told us your mother gave you a mission, Neil.” He didn’t ask Wymack how he knew this, he simply shrugged.

“It was fine.”

“It was not fine,” Andrew said. “Missions need a prophecy. You’ll never find Riko by googling his father.”

 

Wymack led them to the Big House. Kevin was still nursing a bottle of alcohol, and Neil was made to wait for Andrew to come back from the oracle. When he finally came back, his expression was still carefully schooled, but rigid.

“What did the oracle say?” Wymack asked, but Andrew didn’t answer.

 

 

They left camp with sunset.

 

 

Andrew drove west.

 

 

At some point, they reached a motel, and Andrew stopped. He got a single room for the three of them, and didn’t even blink at the look he got from the attendant. Silently, he took them all to the room. Kevin was the first to fall asleep and start snoring. Neil sat down in one of the beds, cataloguing the windows, the door, the good places to hide more out of instinct than need. For the first time in perhaps forever, he knew if something happened he’d stay and fight.

Andrew got to the door, gave up, and sat on another bed instead.

“You’re feeling angry,” Neil said, half question, half affirmative.

“I don’t feel anything,” Andrew answered.

“Then why are you like this?”

“Like what.”

“You were silent the last time you were angry with me too.”

Andrew didn’t answer. Instead, he took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, then a lighter, and moved to one of the windows. Neil followed him. Andrew lighted one of them, passed it onto Neil, and lighted another. He blew smoke outside, and watched as it flew away.

“Ninety percent of the time, I’m plotting ways to murder you.”

“And the other ten percent?”

A beat. Then:

“I am going to kiss you. Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Keep your hands to yourself. You touch me, it’s over, get it?”

“I get it.”

Andrew touched his cheek much more tenderly than Neil expected, and moved his face so as to get a better angle. The kiss, though, was anything but. Neil’s first thought was “I knew he was angry” and then he didn’t think of anything else besides “Andrew”.

It was over quickly.

“I thought you hated me.”

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you.”

 

 

That night, Neil had a vision. It was a wooden cabin, hidden in the woods, close to a cemetery. Abandoned. Big windows, more than one door, plenty of places to hide. He had been there once before, and knew there was a lot of stolen money from Nathan stashed under the floor, in several different places.

In his vision, it was night. Riko was there, forcefully holding a dark-haired boy with a “3” tattooed on his face against the walls, yelling at him something Neil couldn’t hear. There was no sound. The scene changed. There was another person there, now, but before he could see who it was, Neil awoke.

 

 

He went for a run. When he came back, he told Andrew:

“We’re going the wrong way. I know where he is.”

 

 

It took them two days to reach the cabin. It had been a few years since the last time he had been there, and so they almost got lost.

 

The person they found there, however, was not Riko, but Nathan:

 

“Hello, Junior.”

 

Neil panicked.

His first instinct was to run away, but then he looked at Andrew and knew he wouldn't, couldn't.

Nathan smiled. That smile had haunted Neil’s dreams for years, but right then it gave him strength. If he could wipe that smile from existence, he would be free.

So he took aichmirós and prepared to fight.

 

 

Nathan launched himself at him.

Neil was at a disadvantage. Nathan was taller, stronger, and had more experience with the weapons he was using: two Celestial Bronze knives.

There was no time to wonder what it meant for Nathan to have that kind of weapon.

Neil took a deep breath, but there wasn't much time for him to really calm himself. He ordered his arm to fight and it did. He raised his sword and parried the first blow. Still, Nathan’s smile didn't waver.

One, two, three. Nathan kept attacking him in quick succession and Neil had trouble keeping up. A shield might have helped, but he didn't have one. Neil could remember Kevin’s voice telling him to get better gear over and over, but Neil hadn’t planned to leave camp ever again.

Still, he gave Nathan’s a smile of his own, because he wasn't running away. Andrew had told him once, one of their nights together under the stars, that running away meant Nathan was winning. He wasn't quite winning now.

Except he was.

Nathan stabbed at him once, twice with the same knife on the same side, and feinted a third attack. Once Neil tried to defend from this last blow, Nathan used his other knife to attack him on the other side.

Neil gasped, using one hand to clutch his side, but didn't fall over. Didn't give up. Didn't run away.

“You can't win this fight, Junior.” Nathan’s smile widened, and he used a knife to slash Neil’s hand, making him drop his sword. “Such a useless weapon, this one. Can’t really hurt me.”

This was it, then. This was his death.

He felt another blow to his side.

“I’ll make your death very painful.” He said, raising his knife and slashing him again. “Maybe I’ll let you live for enough time to see me kill your frien-”

Neil felt one knife hit him the exact moment Andrew launched himself against Nathan, who stumbled into the floor. Andrew raised a very normal knife and hit his neck, interrupting him mid-word.

With no strength left, Neil fell. He tried looking around, and saw Kevin fighting and beating Lola with one of Andrew’s knives. Romero was already dead, on the floor. Andrew was checking the cabin, looking for more people, or maybe Riko.

Neil felt himself lose consciousness. He heard Lola cry, and then Kevin celebrate. He heard footsteps, and then Andrew kneeled by his side. He said:

“Thank you. You were amazing.”

Andrew didn't answer immediately, busy checking his injuries.

“If you die,” he said “I’ll kill you.”

 

Neil didn’t die.

If it was luck, or Andrew, he would never know.

 

 

Neil woke up a day later, in the camp’s infirmary. He frowned, not sure how he had arrived there. He looked down at his hand, and it was already healed: the only clue there had been a slash there was a thin, white scar.

He also felt no pain.

When he looked back up, Andrew was the first face he saw, and he recognized relief.

“Neil,” he said. And nothing else.

That's when he noticed everyone else was crowding his bed. Matt, Allison, Renee, Dan, even Seth. Again, Neil frowned. He was about to ask them why they were there, when Abby arrived.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Fine,” was his answer.

 

 

Maybe, for the first time, he was telling the truth.

After all, Nathan was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice the Riko situation isn't really solved. That was on purpose. I wanted Andrew to consider Neil's safety over the mission and have a hook for the future JereJean that I planned to write.
> 
> You can come talk to me on my [tumblr](http://giucorreias.tumblr.com/)!


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